<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Teacher's Pet by Imagining_in_the_Margins</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24590590">Teacher's Pet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins'>Imagining_in_the_Margins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, BDSM, Dom Spencer Reid, F/M, Masochism, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:28:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24590590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader insists on being a problem for her favorite Professor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>355</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Teacher's Pet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are only a few reasons to sign up for Criminal Psychology. You could either be like the reasonable students and join the class because you are genuinely interested in the material, or you could be like the rest of us.</p><p>That is, you could enroll in the class because the professor is a fine piece of ass fresh out of prison.</p><p>Spencer Reid didn’t even try to hide his past; he had practically shared his whole life story within the first few weeks of classes. I got the sense he had a hard time keeping just about anything a secret with his nasty habit of oversharing.</p><p>That was fine with me, though. I quite liked having the ammunition. In fact, I had prepared to use that information today, because unlike the rest of the thirsty bitches in the class, I wasn’t auditing. I was in this shit.</p><p>And today was the class I’d been waiting for <em>for over a month</em>. </p><p>“Criminal partnerships aren’t actually as rare as people might believe, with more than one fifth of all serial killers operating in teams, usually composed of two individuals.”</p><p>His voice had already sent half the girls in the class into a trance, but I was trying to focus on the content. After all, I didn’t want to miss my chance. I could feel it coming in my bones.</p><p>“In a typical partnership, there are two roles. I’m sure you’re all familiar with them already. If you’ve done the reading you should be more than a little familiar. Anyone want to—”</p><p>He cut himself off when he noticed the speed with which I raised my hand with a saccharine smile on my face. The expression he returned told me he knew he was in dangerous territory. Nonetheless, he called on me.</p><p>“Yes, (Y/n)?”</p><p>“Dominant and submissive,” I said matter-of-factly, leaning forward in my seat as I lowered my hand.</p><p>“That’s right—“ he started, but I managed to stop him with my loud interruption from the back of the room.</p><p>“But there are tons of different types of dominant and submissive partnerships.” </p><p>He seemed intrigued, and also very concerned about the fact that I was still talking. It wasn’t that unheard of for me to be mouthy in class. I think he knew where I was going with this. </p><p>I hoped so. I would have been disappointed if he didn’t. </p><p>His silence gave me the implicit permission to continue, so I did. </p><p>“It can be master and disciple, parental, siblings, or <em>romantic</em>.”</p><p>He smiled, the kind that dimpled his cheeks as it showed just how hard he was trying not to say something.</p><p>“So you did the reading,” was what came out instead of whatever had him biting his tongue.</p><p>“Of course,” I admitted with a shrug, “But I actually have a question, Professor.”</p><p>There was something about the way I felt when I talked to him. It was like the rest of the class disappeared, the tension between the two of us transporting us to another reality. Other times, it felt like the two of us were starring in a movie, and they were the audience watching our every move with rapt attention.</p><p>There was a reason everyone joked that I was Teacher’s Pet.</p><p>“What’s that?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his pocket. My eyes immediately flittered down to his crotch with the movement, and when I returned my gaze to his eyes, I saw him smirking with raised eyebrows.</p><p>I didn’t mind that he noticed. Part of me wanted him to. It would make the next question more… interesting. </p><p>“Which one are you?” </p><p>The second the question left my mouth, I could see the darkness shroud the playful glint in his eyes. Trying to hide that devilish look on his face, he cleared his throat.</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>He was trying to subtly tell me to rethink my decision, but it wasn’t going to work. The students around me were beginning to whisper, which only urged me on.</p><p>“Would you be more dominant or submissive, Professor?”</p><p>His hands were moving in his pockets, but his eyes were dead set on me. With a deadly seriousness, he responded, “I’m not a criminal, so I wouldn’t know.”</p><p>“Everyone has an inclination to one or the other though, no?” I feigned ignorance, raising my shoulders in a half shrug with my mouth contorted in a dumb pout. “And I mean, you did say you went to prison. You must have been one more than the other.”</p><p>Once his hand left his pants, I realized that I had <em>really</em> gotten to him. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath as he tried to remind himself that he was in a classroom filled with young adults. Myself included.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” he finally concluded, locking eyes with me one more time before he finished, “It won’t be on the final.”</p><p>Recognizing that I’d utterly destroyed this man in front of the entire class, I figured the least I could do was leave him alone for the rest of his lecture. Still, I noticed his eyes lingering on me every couple of minutes. Each time the masses turned their attention to their notes (not including the audits), his gaze would burn into me. </p><p>The last time he did it, right before class ended, I managed to look up and catch him in the act. Somewhat surprisingly, he looked away. His hands nervously fidgeted with something in his pocket and his jaw clenching. His chest heaving with angry breath.</p><p><em>Did I do that to him</em>? I wondered. He answered that question, which I had thought was safely hidden in my mind, with ease after dismissing the class. I had hung around a few minutes like I always did, collecting my things and trying to decide whether I wanted to go pester the man for a while longer before heading to my next class when I heard it.</p><p>“(Y/n).”</p><p>My name almost felt foreign on his lips when he said it like that. I shot a shocked glance down the sloped room at him on the stage, blinking rapidly as if to ask him to repeat himself.</p><p>He didn’t. Instead, he raised his hand and curled a finger to beckon me closer. Butterflies erupted in my stomach, my thighs clenching shut as I tried to remind my lungs to take in air.</p><p>“Come <em>here</em>,” he continued, clearly unhappy with how long it was taking me to respond to his very clear request.</p><p>Now it was my turn to swallow hard, clearing my throat and running a hand over my hair before I took a single step. </p><p>He was watching me, his satisfaction in my anxiety growing more obvious. There was an undercurrent of rage that threatened to swallow me whole as I approached him.</p><p>“Yes, Professor?”</p><p>“Walk with me.”</p><p>It wasn’t the kind of order that left any room for questioning, but I had never been the kind of girl to go along with those kinds of orders.</p><p>“Where to, Professor?”</p><p>Those warm brown eyes were on fire when they landed on me again through his peripherals.</p><p>“My office.”</p><p>The bugs creeping in my stomach were overwhelming, creating a chain reaction of goosebumps over my skin and a lump in my throat.</p><p>Alone with Professor Reid? In his office? Some small part of me screamed to ask him why. But the rest of me begged me not to— if it was an unsatisfactory response, I wanted to have the opportunity to convince him otherwise.</p><p>The walk to his office felt so long despite only being a couple of minutes. It was painfully quiet, my eyes following the way his fingers would tighten and loosen on the books in his hand. He avoided looking at me until he swung the heavy oak door open, staring at me with an angry yet intrigued look. It was a look meant to usher me inside.</p><p>Once I heard the soft click of the latch in the door, I expected to turn to find his unbridled rage. But I didn’t. Spencer Reid was still just as silent, his gaze just as shifty and eerie as it had been in class.</p><p>Was he trying to figure me out?</p><p>“What can I do for you, Professor Reid?” I finally asked, walking over to his desk to lean against the side of it. It was strangely neat compared to that of other professors. There wasn’t a computer to take up space. Just books.</p><p>“Tell me,” he started, stalking towards me now that I had essentially cornered myself, “why I shouldn’t kick you out of my class.”</p><p>I chewed on my lip for a minute as I placed my hands behind me on the desk, meeting his eyes in a rather challenging fashion. </p><p>“Why would you, Professor?” I asked before tacking on a soft, “I’ve done nothing wrong.”</p><p>“Nothing wrong?” he laughed, “You think it’s fun to try and humiliate me in front of the class?”</p><p>The pout that I returned certainly didn’t help my case, displaying a guile that he was quick to pick up on.</p><p>“That wasn’t my intention, sir. I was just curious. That’s all.”</p><p>Now only an arm’s length away from me, he halted, staring down at me with an intense scrutiny.  </p><p>“Curious?”</p><p>I nodded in response, a small simper gracing my lips when he brought a hand to stroke his chin. It wasn’t the kind that emulated thought. Instead, he was displaying the characteristic signs of restraint.</p><p>“Well, I’m curious why you’re thinking about that at all. Are you planning to get into trouble, (y/n)?”</p><p>“Always, sir.” I tried to hide my delight at the thought. “But that’s not why I was curious.”</p><p>It was at this point that I decided to take a chance. Truthfully, it was ill-advised. He had never done anything beyond this moment to suggest that he would be open to being propositioned (by a student, much less).</p><p>But something about the way he was acting right now, practically backing me against his desk with his body and those damned darkened amber colored eyes, made me want to take that chance.</p><p>So I took one step forward, closing nearly all of the space between us and raising my hands in a false sense of compliance.</p><p>“See, when I was doing the reading they kept talking about how submissive partners give complete control over their lives to the older, smarter partner and I just…”</p><p>Lowering my arms, I pressed both of my hands flat against his button down shirt and smoothed the fabric under my palms as I pushed them under his jacket.</p><p>“I find that idea so <em>exciting</em>, Professor. Don’t you?”</p><p>To my surprise, he didn’t bother stopping me. Although he brought one hand up to wrap entirely around my wrist, he made no attempt to move it. The action alone caused me to pause, but freezing in this position almost seemed more intimate.</p><p>“I know what you’re doing,” he whispered, tilting his head to avoid looking at my face. I wondered why that was.</p><p>“Learning?” I chirped happily, a delirious smile on my face that he could surely see through the corner of his eyes.</p><p>With one swift, strong hand to my chest, he pushed me away from him. My thighs hit against the wooden desk with enough force to send a shock through my entire body. </p><p>I smiled.</p><p>Wiping his face once more, he gave my body a quick glance, committing the details to his faultless memory.</p><p>“How old are you?” he asked with a precarious tilt to his voice.</p><p>“Younger than you,” I jokingly answered, much to his annoyance. After he refused to accept the answer, I rolled my eyes. </p><p>“I’m 24.”</p><p>The breath that escaped him was much too heavy, much too guilty for me to let it rest. With it, he had already turned to walk away from me, retreating to the other side of the desk I rested against.</p><p>“You’re <em>14 years</em> younger than me,” he lamented, earning a bothered scoff from my side of the desk.</p><p>“So?” I said with a wave of the hand, pushing off the desk to follow him to the other side. Noticing me following close enough to be his shadow, he refused to sit. Probably a smart move. “It satisfies my rule, so I don’t mind.”</p><p>Despite looking ragged and frustrated, he didn’t kick me out. He didn’t even try to maintain the distance between us. In fact, he looked intrigued by my insistence when he asked, “And what rule is that?”</p><p>Turning back to me while he waited for my answer, our bodies nearly collided in the narrow space between the shelves and furniture. I kept my hands off him this time, keeping them clasped behind my back.</p><p>“If he’s not old enough to be my father,” I said with the same clarity that I had applied to my answer in class, “then he can be my <em>daddy</em>.”</p><p>He couldn’t contain the cheeky chuckle that followed, and his pockets could no longer contain his wandering hands. There was nothing for them to fiddle with that would stop them from landing where they wanted to go.</p><p>“You’re so transparent,” he sneered, practically baring his teeth at me as he spoke, “Bold. <em>Reckless</em>.”</p><p>His hand finally made its way to my cheek, roughly cupping it and turning my face more towards him. </p><p>“Girls like you are so used to getting what you want.”</p><p>With his thumb, he toyed with my lower lip, pulling it down and manipulating the supple skin.</p><p>“You’re spoiled rotten to the core,” he spat, “Let me guess… Does your <em>daddy</em> call you Princess?”</p><p>My cheeks were flaming hot from the rush of blood, my pupils nearly as wide as his in the reflection of his eyes. With his thumb still pressed against my lips, I mumbled, “If he wants to.”</p><p>I paused before clarifying, “If <em>you</em> want to.”</p><p>The words almost got me what I wanted. But I could still see the hesitance in his body language. Deciding to step it up another notch, I slowly opened my mouth to him, closing my lips and wrapping my tongue around his thumb.</p><p>Unable to keep his eyes open without giving himself away, he closed them, muttering a rough string of what I expect were curses in another language. His other hand was clenched against the desk, his knuckles white under the pressure. </p><p>He was barely able to look at me when he breathily replied, “There’s a lot of things I’d love to do to you right now.”</p><p>Finally revealing my hands from behind my back, I wrapped them around his hand as I gently removed his thumb from my lips.</p><p>“Then <em>do something</em>,” I dared. He seemed to mull it over, to run the chances and odds of every possible reaction in his mind.</p><p>“You’re acting like you’d love for <em>someone</em> to take control of you, but then you’re so adamantly hostile.”</p><p>I just smirked, noticing the way he refused to identify himself as the one I wanted to put me in my place.</p><p>“There’s a name for that, you know,” he drawled.</p><p>“Oh?”  </p><p>With all the strength I knew him capable of, and none of the caution remaining, he grabbed my arms and spun me around so I was facing away from him. If that wasn’t dizzying enough, the force he used to press my upper body down against his desk knocked all the breath from my lungs.</p><p>Although a moan wasn’t an appropriate response, it was the one I gave, regardless. I could feel the pride rolling off him in waves behind me.</p><p>“You’re a fucking <b><em>brat</em></b>.”</p><p>My heart was pounding so harshly against the bones of my chest that I felt it might knock me back off the desk. I bit down on my tongue to try to hide my excitement, relishing the ease with which he had pinned me down.</p><p>“Well, you’ve got me all figured out, Professor. I expected no less from you.”</p><p>He didn’t speak. Removing one of his hands but leaving the other firmly in place, I heard the rustling of clothes behind me. I accepted the relative silence, letting my anticipation build to see just where he was planning on taking this.</p><p>We’d passed at least one point of no return. Might as well charge forward now, no?</p><p>“I’ve had you figured out for a very long time, Princess”</p><p>Immediately, my legs clenched together at the pet name, my breath catching in my throat as my body squirmed under his grip.</p><p>“I knew from the second you stepped into my classroom in your tiny little skirts and face all dolled up. Loving the way people call you my <em>pet</em>.”</p><p><em>Oh? </em>And here I had thought he was purposefully ignorant. But no, he had very much been paying attention.</p><p>“Trying to convince me that you’re <em>all grown up</em>. Ripe for the taking.”</p><p>The only sound I was capable of producing was a breathy giggle, my hips swaying as I rocked back and forth in a desperate cry for friction. When it did come, it was his body pressed against mine while he leaned over to see my face pressed against his things.</p><p>“Correct me if I’m wrong. Last chance.”</p><p>I responded with a bat of my widest doe eyes and a smile. He accepted them both with some small breath of relief as his nerves flickered in the space between us. But as quickly as it came, it was gone.</p><p>“Didn’t think so,” he said, finally revealing that the sounds before had been him removing his tie, which was firmly grasped in his hand. “Which is why I know that you aren’t the kind of girl to comply <em>quietly</em>.”</p><p>In mock offense, I gasped, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”</p><p>“Open your mouth.”</p><p>I didn’t obey right away, glancing down at the fabric with an unmatched enthusiasm. Grinding my jaw against the desk in the limited space, I maintained eye contact the entire time he took to shove the deep maroon fabric between my teeth.</p><p>“Good girl,” he cooed, gently stroking my cheek with his thumb before he retreated. The next sound I heard was the distinct commotion of clutter in a drawer. I wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing until he found what he was looking for.</p><p>“I get the feeling you don’t know what you’re in for,” he warned, “I don’t think you’ll enjoy this part as much as you think.”</p><p>He drew the wooden ruler out of the drawer and held it within my line of sight, dangling it limply between two fingers.</p><p>“You didn’t think I’d let you get away with that little stunt you pulled earlier, did you, Princess?”</p><p>The tie muffled any sounds my body tried to make, but it didn’t matter. He could tell they were all good sounds even without any excess articulation. Releasing my arms, he used both his hands for much more exciting maneuvers.</p><p>Starting at the back of my thighs, he ran his hands under my skirt and over my bottom, pushing the fabric up to reveal the tiny strip of fabric that made up my lacy thong.</p><p>“How thoughtful,” he said with a brief chuckle, “there’s no fabric to get in the way.”</p><p>As if to prove his point, he took one cheek in his hand, gripping the skin hard enough that I hoped it would bruise. My body responded in kind, pressing back against him.</p><p>Instead of backing up or correcting the behavior, he pressed his hips against my backside. The feel of his hard arousal underneath the fabric flared desire in the pit of my stomach. It was so strong, I thought I might be sick from it.</p><p>Just as quickly as the pressure had come, it was gone. I was left wanting against his desk, my hands keeping me up as my legs began to shake from the delicious anticipation of the silence.</p><p>It didn’t last long, though. Because just as I was about to raise my head to look back at him, I heard the first whir of wood through the air. The snapping sound of the material against my skin caused me to cry out into the mess of silk filling my mouth.</p><p>“I barely touched you,” he taunted, patting the skin softly with the same instrument, turning it to draw the corner edge along the reddened skin. “You really <em>are</em> spoiled.”</p><p>Without warning, he lifted his hand and brought it back down against the other side with just as much speed. This time I tried to swallow the groan, only slightly succeeding.</p><p>“I can fix that,” he explained, repeating his previous teasing in a mirrored fashion.</p><p>I went to shift my position, trying to bring my legs together to comfort myself. I didn’t get far, with Professor Reid’s foot abruptly coming between mine and forcing them back apart without a single word.</p><p>The nice thing about being hit with a ruler is the characteristic whistle of wood through the air, causing my anticipation to spike each time it would strike my skin. This time, no noise came out. In place of the vocal response, my whole body jerked. He followed quickly with the next smack, not allowing any break between the motions.</p><p>“Look at all that improvement already,” he mumbled just loud enough for me to hear it over the whooshing sounds of the resistant air. Both were quickly followed with another loud slap.</p><p>“You’re such a fast learner, Princess.”</p><p>I wanted to accept the praise, but my mouth was insistent on gagging against the silk wrapped around my tongue.</p><p>“I’m not done having fun yet though.”</p><p>My hands raked down the wood, my body remaining in place by my own sheer will. He didn’t have to hold me down to command me to stay that way. The next time the ruler made contact I heard it more than felt it, the tingling in my skin telling me that my body had begun to ignore the stimuli.</p><p>I could feel the heat; the welts were beginning to form and he didn’t seem to mind overlapping his strikes. I wondered how long it would take the marks to go away. I hoped it would take forever.</p><p>It had to have been the fourth or fifth time he hit me when the tears started to sting my eyes, my teeth finding each other despite his tie separating them. My breathing increased in intensity and came in short bursts through my flared nostrils.</p><p>He must have heard, because he paused his actions for a moment. Leaning over beside me, he ran a gentle hand over my forehead, sweeping the stray strands of hair out of my view.</p><p>“Slow down, Princess. You don’t want to pass out before the fun even starts.”</p><p>I returned a few long blinks, letting a single tear slide down my cheek as my lungs obeyed his command and began to slow down. His expression was stoic and dark, but there was a genuine softness underneath that shone through.</p><p><em>What a strange man</em>, I thought.</p><p>“Do me a favor. The next time you sit in my classroom, remember this feeling. It won’t be hard; the bruises will do most of the work for you.” </p><p>His voice was low in volume and register, his hand ghosting over the skin felt like knives on the tender skin.</p><p>“Remember that it took me less than ten minutes to break you down to <em>nothing,</em> and ask yourself if your little games are worth it.”</p><p>The silence that followed, paired with his intense stare into my eyes, told me that he was expecting an answer. Still unable to speak, I gave a weak nod through my clouded thoughts. My legs felt weak, but still so desperate for his attention.</p><p>Seemingly in response, he vanished from my sight again. I could still see the ruler in his hand, and I closed my eyes in preparation for the next hit. When it finally came, I still wasn’t prepared.</p><p>It was certainly harder than the previous ones—I could tell even though it hit skin that had begun to riot by not reacting at all to the sting. I’d secretly hoped that it meant he was nearing his end of this little escapade, because as thrilling as it was, I wanted to give him some attention, too.</p><p>Fate was on my side, it seemed, because shortly after I had the thought, he brought the instrument back down on the other side, and the poor, flimsy piece of wood fractured with a loud ‘<em>snap!’</em> at the same time the room filled with my muffled moan.</p><p>His faint laughter was the next thing I heard, a comforting and yet somehow erotic sound in response to the harm suffered at his hands. He tossed the broken half onto the desk next to me, his hands coming to rest against the back of my thighs.</p><p>That skin, still able to feel, felt twice as hard now compared to the tingling above it. He seemed to know, taking advantage of the sensitivity but dragging short nails up the skin to the small, soaked strip of fabric separating our bodies.</p><p>“Someone’s excited,” he said through a smile, hooking his finger under the lace only for a second before letting it snap back when he removed his hand. “What do you want to do about that, Princess?”</p><p>It wasn’t even a question. Because the whole time I’d been bent over the desk, I’d only had one thing on my mind.</p><p>Spencer Reid had seen enough of me panting, wanting, and begging. It was his turn.</p><p>Carefully, I pulled his tie from my mouth, tossing it to the side of the desk with the ruined ruler. Pushing myself up with both of my hands, I turned around with a slight wince to face the man who already felt so comfortable leaving marks.</p><p>“You mean it?” I asked, licking my lips that were still readjusting to the feeling of touching without a barrier wedged between them. He mirrored my behavior, sucking in his bottom lip and letting his teeth hold it back for a second longer.</p><p>“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” </p><p>The way the words were strained told me that he meant them. Even if I said the thing he wanted least—that I wanted to leave—he would let me.</p><p>But I definitely did <em>not</em> want to leave. Quite the opposite, actually. He clearly wanted me to say something selfish, which told me that he still had a lot to learn about me. After all, he had thought I wouldn’t like this… and he was very wrong.</p><p>Silently, I kept my eyes on his while my fingers worked diligently at his belt, undoing the buckle and unfastening his pants in a matter of seconds. His breathing rate had increased, but he was trying to hide it.</p><p>The gears in his mind were turning, slowly at first but quickening with each passing second. The closer I got to my goal, the more unsure he was about my plan. It wasn’t until my hand had slipped into his underwear that he’d moved. His hand shot out to my wrist, grabbing it tightly and swallowing hard.</p><p>There were no questions spoken, but they filled the space between us nonetheless. Glancing down at his hand around my arm, I felt my desire continue to rise. I <em>needed</em> to have him, to watch him come undone in my hands.</p><p>Understanding his hesitance for an anxiety over what we were about to do, venturing into the unknown moral taboo of sleeping with one of his students, I sought to comfort him. Because I wasn’t interested in getting fucked on his desk.</p><p>Today was a test run. To see whether or not it was worth it for the both of us. Granted, I had the advantage of actually getting to test drive. Little did he know, he wouldn’t be getting anywhere near what he wanted most. </p><p>Not <em>today</em>.</p><p>“Relax, Professor,” I purred, letting my hand wander the last few inches to grip his erection underneath his clothes. His head tilted back; his mouth hung open in the excitement.</p><p>“Like you said, I’m not the kind of girl who likes to be quiet. So, the fact I removed your tie should have already told you what I was planning to do.”</p><p>Who said that speaking in riddles couldn’t be a part of a healthy, fun sex life? That person was a fool. Professor Reid seemed to agree, his hand winding through my hair on the back of my head while the other steadied him against the desk.</p><p>Within seconds he made it clear I wasn’t moving nearly fast enough, and he began to apply pressure to my head, driving me down onto my knees in front of him. I willed my heart to calm down, out of fear that if it didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to fit something much more appealing in my throat.</p><p>Still experimenting with the way his skin felt softer than the silk of his tie under my fingers, I brought my mouth close enough to allow him to feel the heat of my breath against him. This wasn’t my first rodeo, and I think we both knew that. But it was my first time with someone this much older than me, and my first time with someone I wanted this badly.</p><p>His eyes were closed, his jaw clenching on and off the longer I waited to give him what he wanted. It was almost cute, the way he seemed so hellbent on waiting for me to take these steps. I guess up until now, he could pretend like what we were doing wasn’t sexual.</p><p>But it was. That much was obvious when I flattened my tongue, dragging it up his entire length. His hold on my hair became even tighter, pulling the skin of my scalp taut as his hips followed my mouth.</p><p><em>So responsive</em>, I noted to myself.</p><p>In fact, responsive was the perfect way to describe him. For someone who made a ruckus about me not being quiet, he certainly didn’t mind making his own not-so-hushed noises. When my lips finally closed around the head of his erection, he let out a low groan.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>.” </p><p>Now that was a good, traditional English curse word I was familiar with. It urged me on, my tongue lavishing the small, stringy bead of arousal that had already formed at the tip. His hips sought more, bucking gently into my mouth.</p><p>I accepted the request, trying to take him in a few inches at a time. Each time I would pull away, he would try to keep me closer. Not forcefully, but just enough resistance to make it known.</p><p>“Figures you’d be good at this,” he absently muttered, almost like I wasn’t ever intended to hear the words. Opening my eyes, I glanced up to find him watching me with the most animalistic look I’d seen from him yet.</p><p>Armed with the knowledge that I had a spectator, I began to take him in quicker, bobbing my head back and forth while my tongue traced along.</p><p>My body was flowing with the movement, my knees angry and sore as they ran along the carpet with each motion. If he noticed, he didn’t make a point of showing any concern. On the contrary, he stopped holding himself back.</p><p>When there were only a couple of inches remaining outside of my mouth, he took the initiative to hold my head against him, continuing to apply pressure until I gave in. My lips pressed against the base of him, I lightly gagged at the sensation of him breaching the entrance to my throat.</p><p>I didn’t take my eyes off of him, even as they strained to look up that high and filled with tears.</p><p>“Oh, <em>good girl, </em>Princess,” he moaned, rolling his hips to move within my mouth and test my dedication to pleasing him. “You take cock so fucking well.”</p><p>Finally releasing the pressure, he let me pull back enough to breathe before I continued my gentle strokes of mouth and tongue. With each passing second, I could feel him losing any doubt or guilt in the freedom he was afforded in this quiet moment in the middle of the day on a Tuesday.</p><p>Once his eyes were closed again, I felt free to pick up the pace, one hand holding onto his thigh while the other gripped whatever I couldn’t fit into my mouth in the quicker forward movements.</p><p>I wished that I could speak, to tell him how beautiful he looked in this moment. I had imagined what it would be like to unravel this man, but I had never pictured it like this. Part of me had expected him to be as rough and frenzied as he was with the ruler, but he wasn’t.</p><p>He was patient and strangely vulnerable. It was like he was trying to tell me that my subservience was best when given freely, accepting this was my position. He had already literally beat the fight out of me, and now he was reaping his rewards. It was up to me to provide the energy.</p><p>… Or maybe I had spoken too soon. Because as soon as I began to slow down, distracted by my thoughts, his hand around my hair held me back and forced me to stop completely.</p><p>Blinking up at him with hollowed cheeks, I moved my tongue in slow, languid patterns on the underside of his arousal that remained in my mouth.</p><p>Then, gently at first, he began to push himself further into my mouth without letting my head move. Understanding what he wanted, I slackened my jaw to allow him more freedom to be imperfect in his motions.</p><p>He took that freedom as my consent, starting with short, shallow thrusts of just his hips before beginning to move my face in tandem. The pace was rhythmic and powerful, each thrust forward activating my gag reflex for the briefest flash of a second before it was gone again.</p><p>“Every time you taunted me in class,” he huffed, holding my face down when I started to gag, “I’d just think about how satisfying it would be to shove my cock down your throat.”</p><p>I could barely keep my eyes open, but I fought the urge to shut them. I wanted to watch the way he seethed with his words, the desire clear in every stress line forming on his face.</p><p>“What it would be like to watch you <em>fucking choke</em> on it.”</p><p>He enjoyed the sight of my struggle for just a second longer before he relieved my throat, continuing with his regular pace in and out of my mouth. But now his thrusts were jagged and faltering, his grip on my hair varying with strength as he neared his inevitable end.</p><p>My knees would thank him for a swift end, but I ignored the way the burns littering my bottom half smarted with every movement. I let my hands wander around his thighs, trying to devote one hundred percent of my attention to the man in front of me.</p><p>There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that he noticed and appreciated the efforts, and soon his body collapsed slightly, his back hunched over as he held my mouth flush against him. His other hand propped him up with a death grip on the desk.</p><p>Despite the full mouth and throat, he continued to thrust against my face. The pressure and insistence sparked some deep survival instinct within me, and I couldn’t contain the loud, desperate moan in my chest.</p><p>The sound reverberated around my lips, creating a delicious vibration through my mouth. The professor was clearly grateful for the final push he needed, transferring my noises into his own and sharing them with the room.</p><p>And just like that, I felt the familiar pulsing of his cock against my tongue, a warmth spraying the back of my throat. His hand cradling the back of my head stopped me from instinctively retreating at the sensation.</p><p>“You wanted this,” he growled, thrusting even further into my throat in response, “so fucking take it.”</p><p>I wished more than anything that I could smile at that, show him just how much pleasure I derived from such a crude thing leaving his mouth. But since I couldn’t, I chose to hollow my cheeks once more, sucking insistently on him.</p><p>Another wild, guttural moan ripped from his chest as he threw his head back in ecstasy. Part of me selfishly wished I could see the look on his face more clearly. But then I remembered my main goal. This was just the beginning of what I hoped for.</p><p>Today was just <em>today</em>. It was a test run, and I think it was safe to say that it was successful.</p><p>The speed and force with which he pulled out of my mouth left me feeling empty, the strings of spit snapping back against my chin. Slack jawed yet still smiling, I caught my breath before swallowing any remaining evidence of what just occurred behind the Professor’s desk.</p><p>He just watched me as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Tucking himself back into his pants, he took a moment to try and help me back onto my feet.</p><p>My balance was strange at first, my now slightly bloodied knees very much hating the movement. Professor Reid was now looking at me like I’d given him the key to all the knowledge in the universe. I suspect I was looking at him much in the same way.</p><p>“You’re bleeding.” </p><p>He motioned to my legs, but I merely shrugged.</p><p>“Barely.”</p><p>I could hear the ruckus of the old wooden drawers opening, but I was already busy preparing myself to leave. He didn’t notice yet, but he soon would.</p><p>“I have ointment to take care of that, as well as the other marks I left.”</p><p>With a scrunchie stuck in my mouth, I mumbled, “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”</p><p>When he turned to look at me, my eyes were elsewhere. More specifically, <em>anywhere</em> else. I didn’t want him to see the desire that was still left burning in my eyes. Because he could convince me to stay if he wanted to, and I had places to be.</p><p>“It’s important. I don’t want to be the reason you get scars.”</p><p>With a shrug and a roll of my eyes, I waved him off. </p><p>“I’ll do it later.”</p><p>After I finished making my hair less chaotic, I grabbed my bag off the seat to make my exit. I didn’t make it very far, with Professor Reid grabbing my hand in a much too affectionate manner.</p><p>“Wait—” he called, but I was distracted, staring down at the contact with a fascinated curiosity. Noticing my reaction, he pulled his hand back.</p><p>“You haven’t…” he trailed off, suddenly bashful at the topic of what we were just engaged in. It would have been annoying if it weren’t so damned charming. “It’s only fair.”</p><p>The thing was, I knew that he was still just trying to quell his own curiosity. He wanted to know more about me. He wanted to break me down even further than he already had and then put me back together again.</p><p>“Oh, Professor. How sweet of you to worry about me,” I said with a coy smile, clutching the nonexistent pearls wrapped around my neck. “But sorry, there’s no time for you to show me your hidden talents. I have to go; I have class.”</p><p>“You can’t be serious,” he said with a laugh, his eyes roaming over my body before landing back on my face. “How do you expect to sit for that long?”</p><p>I snorted, bending over to pick up the other half of the broken ruler. </p><p>“I thought we had settled this?”  </p><p>My slow strut closer to him was only a little by choice, and mostly because of how sore my entire lower body was. I poked his chest with the flat end of the ruler, waiting for him to grab it from me.</p><p>“I’m a masochist, Professor Reid.”</p><p>Swapping roles, he used the same tool to lift my chin to him. The action, although small, caused the butterflies to fill me all over again.</p><p>“I’ll just close my eyes,” I dreamily sighed, “and think about you, instead.”</p><p>I thought that would be the end of it; one final tease before I left him in his office, still wanting. But he had a different idea.</p><p>Pressing harder against my chin with the jagged wood, he leaned in closer to me. My breath left me all at once, my body freezing in position until our lips met.</p><p>I was cautious at first, afraid to admit how badly I wanted this. If this was a test to see just how attached I already was, I wanted to pass.</p><p>But there was nothing tentative in how hard he was kissing me. He didn’t seem to mind showing just how much he wanted to consume every inch of me. I supposed that was the main difference between us.</p><p>He knew he could have me.</p><p>So he took me, deepening the kiss with a sweep of that tongue I’d watched so often in class. I’d never imagined it would actually be wetting my lips. I’m not entirely sure how long it’d been, my mind turning to putty. Any sanity I retained was held up by the broken ruler in his hand.</p><p>A soft whimper finally escaped me and flowed into his mouth. He smirked, accepting the sound as the end of this battle. To him, he had won. Because if he couldn’t have everything he wanted, then neither could I.</p><p>“See you in class on Thursday, Princess.”</p><p>— <b><em>Two Days Later</em></b> —</p><p>So, sitting in auditorium chairs with welts on your ass is a lot harder than one might think. Like, I had known it would be hard, but it turned out to be basically impossible. It was safe to say that any adrenaline had worn off within a few hours.</p><p>But then it happened – the second I stepped foot into Professor Reid’s classroom, spotting him writing on the whiteboard at the front of the room, it was back.</p><p>Thoughts of him with his head thrown back in ecstasy from my mouth wrapped around his cock sent a shock through my veins. I could hardly breathe, much less make my way to my seat. His sixth sense must have alerted him that I was staring, because he glanced over his shoulder to spot me standing like a deer in the headlights at the door to the classroom.</p><p>The small smirk he flashed me was enough to break my spell, and I quickly shuffled over to my seat. The skirt I wore today wasn’t just for his viewing pleasure; I wanted as little touching the tender skin as possible.</p><p>He didn’t say or do anything strange. The lecture went on like usual. The only thing that might have been different was that whenever his gaze settled on me, it was longer and hungrier. I wondered if anyone else could see it.</p><p>I didn’t speak as much, afraid that I would give myself away in the way my pitch rose and my volume lowered when he addressed me. Of course, my silence gave me away, too.</p><p>Which was probably why, despite ending class with his traditional salutations, he tacked on a special addition.</p><p>“See you all next week,” he had started, “(Y/n) please come see me.”</p><p>My cheeks flushed a deep shade within seconds, and my friends around me didn’t even try to hide their amusement in my apparent trouble.</p><p>“Oooh, teacher’s pet’s in trouble,” my friend chimed on her way out of the aisle.</p><p>“Fuck off, bitch,” I huffed in a mostly joking manner. She just laughed, booking it out of the room before she got dragged into whatever she thought was about to happen to me.</p><p>If only she knew.</p><p>Unfortunately, the usual couple of girls who stayed after every class had to try to shoot their shot before they left for the day. Figures. I wasn’t going to interrupt them, no matter how tempting it was.</p><p><em>Hey, </em>I thought to myself, <em>could you all fuck off so I can go fuck him like you could only dream of?</em></p><p>I sighed as I strategically leaned forward on the chairs of the bottom row, too scared to try and sit again. His eyes were on me again, but I ignored him, staring down at my phone.</p><p>“Come here, Princess.”</p><p>The words ripped me from my reality. I had been so absorbed in the stupid, mindless scrolling that I missed the last student leaving the room. I glanced over my shoulder one more time to be sure, and then began to make my way to the stage steps.</p><p>He watched me like a hawk the entire time, maintaining that predatory stare even as I stood directly in front of him beside the desk.</p><p>“What can I do for you, Professor?”</p><p>His reply was swift and immediate, almost overlapping with my words.</p><p>“Turn around and bend over.”</p><p>With a light scoff, I began to turn per his instruction, taking my time in pressing my palms against the desk next to me. “How scandalous, Professor.”</p><p>He wasn’t feeling patient, his hand flattening between my shoulder blades and forcing me to bend at a deeper angle. Once I was appropriately positioned, he used both hands to gingerly lift my skirt, revealing yet another thin strip of fabric that left my cheeks bare.</p><p>“You look so much better with these bruises,” he whispered, his fingers just as light over the skin. Still, it was too much for the raw skin, and I jumped under his touch with a sharp yelp.</p><p>“Watching you struggle to sit is endlessly entertaining. What a weak little masochist you are.”</p><p>My thighs had begun to rub together before I’d even noticed, my hips swaying slightly to guide his hands to the parts that didn’t burn. He still found my hips, though, a playful tilt in his tone.</p><p>“Almost as much fun as choking you with my cock.” </p><p>The memories were already filling my mind again, but he wasn’t trying to reminisce just yet. </p><p>“But there’s something else I want from you now. Something you deprived me of before.”</p><p>I giggled, but quickly corrected the misinformation, “I did no such thing, Professor.”</p><p>Roughly taking a bruised cheek in his hand, he seemed to enjoy the way my body all but collapsed at the stimuli.</p><p>“Shut up,” he ordered, “Come with me to my office.”</p><p>“No,” I said through a groan as his hand tightened once more.</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>I took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to gain my confidence back so that I might stand a chance at getting what I wanted; what I’d been planning on. Managing to protest against his grip, I turned to face him.</p><p>“Fuck me here.”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?” </p><p>He seemed genuinely surprised. He shouldn’t have been. It was only natural, for me to want him to take me in the first place I’d fallen headfirst into lust with him.</p><p>I hopped up so that I was seated on the edge of the desk, gripping the edge with my hands between my legs as I spread them enough that the front of my skirt lifted.</p><p>“Fuck me right here. <em>Center stage</em>.”</p><p>That predatory behavior returned when he placed himself between my legs, a hand on my lower back pulling me even closer to the edge so that the space between us was practically nonexistent.</p><p>“Oh, Princess, you are too spoiled.” </p><p>I couldn’t focus on his words, because his hand was slowly inching up my thigh. </p><p>“<em>Starving</em> for attention.”</p><p>His other hand was on my face as it has been before, thumbing at my lips and guiding my face to meet his.</p><p>“I deserve it,” I mumbled before he kissed me. This time it was gentler, his mouth coaxing mine open like we had all the time in the world. I gasped when his finger ran along the damp underwear blocking me from him. He took the time to respond to my earlier plea.</p><p>“Yes. You do deserve it.”</p><p>That was the only warning I got before he managed to maneuver the fabric, dipping into my heat. Immediately, mewls and curses began rolling off my tongue.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” he grunted, pressing his forehead against mine to keep our eyes locked, “You’re so responsive.”</p><p>“That’s what you do to me, Professor.” </p><p>The words were more like happy purrs, my body beginning to rock against his hand as he curled a finger inside me. When he started to harshly stroke against my walls, I moaned against his mouth.</p><p>It was his breaking point, causing him to bring a hand up to cover my mouth while his other continued to work me.</p><p>“Show me that you can be a good, <em>quiet</em> girl, and I’ll fuck you.”</p><p>The words alone were enough to practically throw me over the edge, and I desperately nodded against his hand, the moans still there but much quieter.</p><p>“That’s it, Princess,” he praised, slipping in another finger and smiling as my eyes were struggling to stay open. “See how good I can make you feel when you behave?”</p><p>I didn’t even care about the fact that my body was dragging against the desk, tearing at the already abused skin from a few days prior. All I could think about was the way his palms were applying crushing pressure over my face and crest.</p><p>“What else do you want in your pretty little pussy, hm?”</p><p>“Please, fuck me, Professor,” I called from behind his hand. He could still hear me clearly enough, as evidenced by the way he retreated, using both of his hands to undo his pants. The absence was noted and my body sorely missed him, but I knew it wouldn’t be for long.</p><p>“Naughty girl,” he started as he freed himself from his bottoms before tugging my underwear to the side for easier access.</p><p>There was no time for romance or subtlety. There was <em>definitely</em> no time to argue with him over whether we should make our way back to his office where I’m certain he probably kept protection after our little Tuesday office hours.</p><p>He didn’t seem to mind, and I figured he was a smart man, right? I’d never fucked a man without it, and if I was going to share my first with anyone, it might as well be him.</p><p>Accepting my lack of fight as an invitation, he wasted no more time. With one swift thrust, he almost completely entered me. I cried out at the sensation of my tight walls struggling to accommodate his girth. He didn’t correct me for that noise, understanding how necessary it was.</p><p>“It’s pathetic, watching you beg someone nearly twice your age to fuck you like a cheap whore in the middle of a classroom.” </p><p>His voice and breath were hot against my ear. My arms wrapped around his shoulders, trying to hold me in place once he started his slow, deep thrusts.</p><p>“Fine,” I struggled to speak, “Fuck me like an expensive one, then.”</p><p>He chuckled, appreciating the small bit of humor I was still able to provide even while coming undone. </p><p>“A whore’s still a whore, Princess.”</p><p>Grabbing my chin, he turned me back to see the smug, toothy grin while he started to pound into me with more power.</p><p>“And like a true submissive, you’re a little bit stupid, too.”</p><p>I swallowed before I bit down on my bottom lip, wanting to hear what he had to say just as much as I was trying to suppress a moan.</p><p>“I mean, what kind of stupid whore lets a man she barely knows fuck her bareback.”</p><p>My eyes were rolling back, but he pat my cheek with a light slap, as if to bring me back to the moment. It was so hard to decide which part of my body to listen to. My bottom burned against the roughness and my legs quaked each time he bottomed out inside me.</p><p>“Pay attention when I speak to you.”</p><p>“Yes, Professor,” I squeaked, trying to remember the last thing he had said before I got lost in the sea of sensations. “I-I’d only do it for you, sir.”  </p><p>The dark, possessive glint in his eyes showed that he understood my words to be true. Before he could answer, he captured my mouth with his. The action was paired with both his hands grabbing my hips, dragging me to the edge of the table.</p><p>The new angle caused him to fully enter me each time, and my moans eventually got caught in my throat as they all tried to escape at once.</p><p>“That’s right,” he growled, “You’re <em>mine</em> now, Princess.”</p><p><em>Was it ever a question, Professor</em>? I thought but didn’t speak the words, wishing that I could share them.</p><p>He had no restraint, though, words coming easy to him as he held my legs apart to better drive into me with all the force he could muster.</p><p>“Mine to use as I see fit,” he groaned, “whenever and wherever I want.”</p><p>I wanted to fight back, to remind him that this was my idea. But I didn’t, my mind clouded with everything he was showing me. The lessons I’d learned in those moments on the table were more than I could ever glean from an entire semester of lectures.</p><p>“I’ll fuck you until you can’t even speak in my class without thinking about how it feels to have me inside of you.”</p><p>His hand weaved through my hair but grabbed the back of my neck like one would wrangle an animal by the scruff.</p><p>“And all of those little boys that are always trying to fuck you will know that you belong to <em>me</em>.”</p><p>His nails digging into the thin skin covering the column of my throat caused goosebumps to ripple over my skin, and I grabbed hold of the collar of his jacket to keep me in place, scared that I might actually collapse in on myself like a dying star.</p><p>“They’ll taste me on your tongue and watch me drip down your fucking thighs.”</p><p>My face was contorted in some kind of pleased grimace, my body rioting against his touch in the most delicious manner. Riding that edge between pain and euphoria, it just took one more thing for me to lose myself entirely.</p><p>“Do you <em>understand me</em>, Princess?”</p><p>Don’t ask me why it was such a simple question that drove me into bliss, the ever-growing tension in all of my muscles snapping into a firework show of spasms.</p><p>“Yes!” I breathily cried, my hands yanking him closer so he could kiss me as a high-pitched whine mixed with our tongues.</p><p>“Yes, Professor,” I repeated, my voice grinding out through clenched teeth when his movements became ruthless and bruising, his body finally ready to give in now that he had finally finished me first.</p><p>“<b>Good</b>.” </p><p>With one final thrust, he fully sheathed himself in me before filling me with his warmth. I choked on a moan, unable to focus any efforts on quieting myself with the sensation of him pulsing gently at my deepest point.</p><p>“You better get used to this feeling,” he growled in my ear, his mouth hanging inches away from mine with a playful, wicked smirk.</p><p>“Because you’re teacher’s princess now.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>